


Make the Yuletide Gay

by snap_dragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pov, Slow Burn, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snap_dragon/pseuds/snap_dragon
Summary: The Yule Ball is approaching fast and neither Harry nor Draco have dates. When tensions rise between Pansy and Draco, Pansy turns to an unexpected solution that has interesting consequences.ORPansy is mad at Draco, Harry isn't a total dick to Pansy so they go to the ball together. That makes Draco have feelings.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini/Original Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a silly little fic that I started as a fun event with my roommates. Figured I'd post it here for fun. There will be multiple chapters but idk how long this will end up being. I've also never written actual fanfic before so sorry for any failings. Regardless I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

HARRY POV

Harry woke with a start to the sounds of Ron, Dean, and Seamus hurriedly moving throughout the room. Drawers opening and closing, and the sound of water running pulled him fully from his sleep. Pushing aside the heavy red curtains, sunlight bounced off the golden egg atop his nightstand, blinding Harry temporarily. The light seemed too bright for morning as his sluggish brain put two and two together - he had overslept and potions was his first class of the day. The wrath of Severus Snape was not something to be ignored so he joined the whirlwind of the other boys, reaching blindly for glasses, day old discarded robes, and half open books from the night before.

  
His feet moved of their own accord out of the common room, only sparing a glance at the clock above The Fat Lady’s portrait. He wouldn’t have a moment for breakfast if he was to make it down to the dungeons on time. Harry’s stomach grumbled at the thought but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Malfoy’s snickered remarks from across the Great Hall. Ron soon made stride with him, hurrying to the moving stairs as the roar from the breakfast crowd filled the stone corridors. As they began their descent Hermione fell in step beside them, arms full of her usual overload of books.

  
“Where were you two this morning? You missed a wonderfully dramatic spat between the king and queen Slytherin, it was quite the show. Draco even had the nerve to storm out of the hall early and Pansy was far from pleased about it.”

  
“Oh, I’m sure she wasn’t,” Ron replied. “Parkinson never likes when Malfoy dares to defy her wishes. Childhood in a mansion full of house elves will do that to you. Sunshine Potter couldn’t get his arse out of bed after Flitwick had us up writing 16 inches on the history and technique of a bloody banishing charm.” Ron nudged Harry’s shoulder with an exasperated smirk. “You’ve been quiet Harry, can’t quite form the words without your morning pumpkin juice?”

  
Harry chuckled, “Sorry, always get a bit dazed when I almost miss potions. You know Snape would have my head and a month’s detention if I managed to miss out on his exhilarating lectures on the uses of dittany.”

  
“You know,” Hermione cut in, “if you actually took time to prepare for your classes instead of fawning over Cho Chang every waking second, you might actually have time to get a full nights rest once in a while.” Ron rolled his eyes so hard Harry feared they might fall out of his head. He responded noncommittally to Hermione’s dig as they approached the heavy door of the potions classroom. Malfoy was already seated front and center, his books splayed out across the workbench in a clear mark of territory. As Pansy approached, the purposeful thud of a textbook in her usual spot drew the eyes of many in the class.

  
“Parkinson must’ve really fucked up if Malfoy won’t even let her near him,” Ron whispered to Harry. With a chuckle, they took their usual spot in the back corner, as Hermione continued to the front and settled in for a mind numbing class.

***

The rest of Harry’s day passed uneventfully; his charms essay was unsurprisingly 3 inches short, but aside from Flitwicks look of disappointment all he could do was hope for a calm evening and a quick return to bed. His stomach carried him to the Great Hall, focusing solely on the smell of roast meat and spiced cakes. Without the accompanying voices of Hermione and Ron, Harry’s mind fell to the puzzle of the golden egg waiting for him in his dormitory. It had sat there for almost three weeks now and nothing had come of it except for the occasional headache. Possibilities of the future task and deciphering the egg's mysteries tumbled through his head until he barreled into a ruffled-looking Pansy Parkinson.

  
“Sure you don’t need a better pair of glasses, Potter?” Parkinson spat at him, furiously wiping at her cheeks.

  
With his mouth agape at the streaks on the slytherin’s face, Harry stumbled out a “Um no, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was headed.”

  
“Obviously!” The girl sneered back. Her expression was softer than the usual slytherin facade she wore, and Harry had an unusual pang of confusion at her expression. Parkinson rose, brushing imaginary dust from her robes, and Harry awkwardly began to follow her towards the Great Hall.

  
“Are you...all right Parkinson?” he asked cautiously. The glare he got in return could have cut through a Gringotts vault.

  
“I am perfectly fine, Potter. Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t come to the likes of you, or anyone with your gryffindor savior complex. You can go back to whatever daydream of Cho Chang made you blunder into me in the first place.” She stalked off towards the slytherin table and the waiting sneer of Malfoy. His expression seemed more vile than usual, and for once, not pointed at Harry. He continued into the Great Hall, his mouth watering at the promise of good food and relaxation alongside friends. He sat down facing the opposite side of the room, eyes instantly drawn to the yet again bickering pair of slytherins.

  
“What do you think has their knickers in a twist?” Harry asked, motioning roughly to the conflict with a glass full of pumpkin juice and a growing plate of food. “Don’t get me wrong, seeing Malfoy get the bad end of the stick is endlessly entertaining but I don’t think I’ve ever seen those two this prickly.”

  
“I heard the ferret called Parkinson’s mum a right whore and said if she had just settled down with a guy, Parkinson might’ve turned out alright.” Seamus called from down the table.

  
“I heard Malfoy made a bet with Zabini over how long it would take for her to give it up to someone and Parkinson found out this morning. Zabini apparently apologized but Malfoy wouldn’t. Said he the made the bet for a reason.” Ginny added.

  
“I’m sure it’s something ridiculous like Malfoy’s mother not returning a prized possession of the Parkinson’s. Purebloods and their family heirlooms, I don’t understand it.” Hermione said. As Harry continued to load his plate he kept a subtle eye on the two across the room.

  
“Why do you care so much about whatever mess the ferret’s gotten himself into, huh Harry?” Ron asked, a sausage dangling from his mouth. Harry shrugged, taking a moment to wonder why he did actually care. Whatever it was, it wouldn't let him forget Parkinson’s splotchy face.

  
“I bumped into Parkinson outside the Hall and she looked well and truly sad. ” There was a moment of quiet confusion among the gryffindors. “I guess I don’t really care, it just struck me as odd to see a snake doing anything but hissing.” Snickers rang out at the comment as Ron choked on his food. Hermione slapped his back without looking up from her Potions work. “More fuel for irritating Malfoy though, so the more the better.” Ron nodded in agreement as the gryffindors dissolved into smaller conversations.

  
Harry fell deep in thought, his eyes drifting subconsciously towards the ravenclaw table where the head of a particularly alluring girl snuggled into the chest of none other than Cedric Diggory. He let out an unconscious scoff. When Hermione raised an eyebrow at his remark, he mumbled “Diggory and Cho are at it again. Can’t even keep to their own tables anymore. Honestly, I don’t see what she sees in him.” Hermione gave him a perplexed look.

  
“Yes, Harry why would Cho ever be interested in Cedrics perfectly ruffled hair, natural charm, and ability to hold an actual conversation with the opposite sex?”

  
“Hey, I can talk to girls perfectly well. I do it with you all the time!” She rolled her eyes at this in an almost perfect imitation of Ron's earlier expression.

  
“Harry, as famous as you are, your social skills have never been your strong suit. Last time you made eye contact with Cho, you dribbled pumpkin juice down your jumper. I certainly wouldn’t call that ‘good conversation.” He opened his mouth to respond but got cut off with the sound of Parkinson’s shriek.

  
“You’re a right git Draco, you know that? I thought you would've grown out of your arrogance by now but clearly I was wrong!”

  
“Maybe if you weren’t such a prude all the time you’d be more accustomed to pomp.” Malfoy yelled from across the hall. “I’ve got some common sense for you, remove the stick up your arse and see if that helps you learn how to take a joke!” A tense silence blanketed the entire hall as Parkinson stood and stalked out with a final huff. Wide eyed, Harry turned to his friends with disbelief written across his face. The trio dissolved into quiet laughter as mumbling conversations erupted throughout the houses.

  
“We might just be witnessing history here, mates. Didn’t think I’d ever see the day weasel and co. had an actual falling out,” Ron chuckled. Hermione smacked his arm lightly.

  
“Ronald be nice. We know better than anyone how much of a prick Malfoy can be when he puts his mind to it. And slytherin or not, Pansy shouldn’t have bets placed on her sex life by her closest friends.” She looked pointedly at the two boys. 

  
“You don’t actually think Ron or I would ever be that cruel, do you ‘mione?” Harry was incredulous. He knew him and Ron loved to poke fun at Hermione’s more eccentric interests but they would never go so far as to put galleons on her love life. They both knew that’d be a losing bet either way.

  
Hermione hmed to herself. “I wouldn’t put it past anyone in a moment of anger. Besides, I’m sure Pansy has to deal with stuff like that all the time. That kind of talk takes its toll on a person.” Ron and Harry shared a look of dismay.

  
“I’m sorry are you actually trying to defend Pansy fucking Parkinson right now? When did we fall into an alternate universe where you stand up for a pureblood like her?” Ron looked to Harry for backup and he gave an unconvincing, “Yeah Hermione.”

  
She shrugged and said “You two wouldn’t understand. Girls have to stick together, even if some girls are occasionally blood racist snakes.” Ron just shook his head, reaching for Hermione’s glass. Nose scrunched, he sniffed her cider suspiciously.

  
“Nope, doesn’t smell like any mind magic potions I know.” Ron handed the drink back to her.

  
“You couldn’t smell a mandrake from boomslang skin if they were labeled!” Hermione chided. As the pair began to bicker further about the strength of Ron’s nose, (Hermione was, of course, right on this one) Harry turned his attention back to the slytherin side of the hall. Malfoy was staring intently at him and he resisted the urge to turn and see if there was something behind him. He stuffed a bit of pastry in his mouth and when he looked back up Malfoy’s eyes were still on him, glaring. A yawn built its way up Harry’s throat and he turned back to his friends.  
“I’m heading back to the common room to at least attempt the mountain of reading Snape gave us today.” Ron nodded solemnly.

  
“Good luck mate, you’re a braver man than I. Snape’s lucky if I open the textbook this term.” Hermione shook her head in exasperation but nodded at Harry as he gathered his books and made his way to the empty corridor. He had no actual intention of trying to understand his potions homework but wanted a few moments of quiet to ponder the egg still waiting in his room. Again, his thoughts turned to the tournament and the ever impending ball. He worried over who to ask since Cho was clearly out of the question. Cedric’s constant presence wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise, and it would be the tale of the century if The Boy Who Lived showed up to the dance without a date. Even the thought of dancing with McGonagall for the champions entrance had him cringing.

  
The drafty corridor made the sound of approaching footsteps that much louder, but Harry kept on, wanting to avoid any meaningless small talk with his classmates. Instead, he was shoved to the ground, books flying across the hall. As quick as he could turn, Harry already knew who would be facing him. Above him stood Malfoy, wand pointed at down at his opponent, pale face looking practically ethereal in the brazier’s light. He moved to speak, but Malfoy beat him to it.

  
“Shut it, Potter. Save your lies for someone more gullible.” Lies?

  
“Malfoy, what do you me-”

  
“Playing the fool again, are we? Is that your only defense mechanism? Can’t hold your own in a duel to save your life so might as well just play stupid.” The usual bite of Malfoy’s remarks were softened by Harry’s own exasperation.

  
“I really don’t know what you’re on about Malfoy, and I really haven't the time-”

  
“Oh I’m so sorry Potter,” Malfoy sneered. “Did I interrupt your next heroic mission? Fat chance you’d do any good. Now what did you say to Pansy?” The tip of his wand edged closer, almost touching Harry’s chin.

  
“Pansy? Why would I have done anything to Pansy?”

  
“I saw you two walk in together before dinner. She had been crying. What did you do?” Malfoy’s voice echoed slightly off the corridor walls and he was close enough for Harry to see a determined glint in his eyes. He spluttered for a moment, caught off guard by the protective instincts of Malfoy. Sure, they’d had their share of fights but not over things like this.

  
“Malfoy I found her like that. I didn’t do anything! Have you considered that maybe you or Zabini had something to do with it considering you’ve been fighting all day?” The boy's wand dropped slightly.

  
“We have not been fighting all day. Disagreements happen all the time and Pansy doesn’t know how to take a bloody joke.”

  
“Betting on your mate's virginity doesn’t seem like a very funny joke.” Malfoy’s wand grew firm under Harry’s chin as he leaned closer. His breath smelled of spiced apples and Harry almost wanted to lean closer.

  
“Listen here, Potter.” Harry flinched at his name said like a curse. “You know nothing of Pansy and I’s friendship, and you should do well to keep your nose out of other people’s business in the future.”

  
“Don’t cause scenes in the Great Hall and I will, ferret.” Malfoy’s eyes flashed in a moment of fear, and Harry smirked. Moody’s lesson wouldn’t soon be forgotten by the slytherin. With a shove, Harry was pushed back to the floor, his glasses narrowly missing another fracture. Hermione would not be pleased if he asked her to fix them again. He wanted to reach for his wand, at the very least stun the slytherin but it lay out of reach among his textbooks. Instead, he twisted back towards Malfoy with a good ol’ fashioned right hook. The hit took him by surprise, giving Harry a moment to stand and right his glasses.

  
“I should hex you for that,”Draco reached a hand towards his jawline. “but I have more important uses for my time. Stay away or you won’t be as lucky next time, scarface.”  
“Your empty threats are truly petrifying, I’m shaking in my boots,” Harry mocked. With a final glare, Malfoy stalked back towards the great hall, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. As aggravating as they could be, Harry had to admire slytherin’s talent for facades. He struggled to his feet and clumsily gathered his books with one last look towards the great hall. Silver eyes met green, and Harry had a bad feeling about the coming weeks.

***

DRACO POV

  
Checking his mouth for a split lip, Draco sauntered back towards Blaise in the Great Hall. His friend raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Not getting into fights with Potter again, are we?” Malfoy shook his head.

  
“Not fights, just making sure pretty boy knows his place. You saw Pansy’d been crying when they came to dinner together right? We can bicker all he wants, but she should be kept out of it.” Blaise just nodded uninterested, and returned to his roast dinner. Malfoy sat for a moment, adrenalin still going strong from the climactic end to his interaction with Potter. Mindlessly he began to tap on the edge of the table, turning over what the gryffindor had said in his head. Pansy hadn’t been crying over their disagreement right? It was just a joke, an excuse to make a few galleons off of his friends. She of all people knew how boring Hogwarts could get, surely she couldn’t blame him for that. No Potter must’ve done something; he was just being a coward about owning up to it to. Draco itched to go find the boy again, continue to hash things out and throw a punch or two himself. He rarely had the desire to stoop to physical fighting but something about Potter and his stupid face always made his blood boil.

  
His tapping grew more incessant and Blaise gave him a strong side eye. The image of Potter’s face screwed up in anger flashed through his mind; his eyes were bright, fists clenched at his sides, hair mussed from being pushed. Draco could really do with a good fight right now, just to get his energy out. Food completely forgotten and leg beginning to bounce he stood abruptly. A few heads turned his way as Blaise spoke up.

  
“Are you alright Draco? You seem unreasonably tense”

  
“I’m fine,” he snapped. “Just need to get some air, I’ll see you in the common room.” Blaise hummed skeptically but let Draco leave, hands shoved deep in his robes. He walked through the courtyard of the school to the banks of the Black Lake where he began to pace. Stupid Potter with his stupid excuses, and his stupid hair, making Pansy cry and then having the gall to lie about it. He trudged back and forth, restlessly playing with the ring on his finger. His mind kept playing back the fight: the gryffindors face pinched in barely contained rage, his stupid smirk when he dared to call Draco a ferret, the green of his eyes piercing into Draco’s very soul. Piercing into his soul? Even Draco’s mind was beginning to betray him. With a huff, the slytherin began to pace faster pulling out his wand as another thing to occupy his hands. The hawthorne stick spun between his fingers, mind racing faster than Draco could keep up with. Even after three years, it always shocked him how riled up Potter’s incessant stupidity could get him. He had to find out what scarface had said to Pansy so he could fix things with her. The ball was approacher quicker than he expected and he’d bring immeasurable shame if he showed up without a date to an internationally attended soiree. And while Pansy and his relationship was far from romantic she was much more bearable than the bulk of the female student body. It wouldn’t be the first time Potter made his life incredibly more complicated.

  
Deciding to head back and look for Pansy, Draco looked up to find that very same girl walking glumly towards the lake. Her head drooped uncharacteristically, and Draco’s heart gave a little pang. He was going to hex Potter into oblivion, his friend had never looked so vulnerable, it wasn’t becoming of members of high wizarding society. He took a deep breath, settled his wand back within his robes, and went to approach his friend.

  
The grass must’ve muffled his steps as Pansy tensed and raised her wand at his sudden voice. Her eyes looked panicked for a moment, before settling into her usual look of disdain.  
“Hey Pans,” Draco began. “It’s just me, no need to shoot a spell in my direction.” Pansy rolled her eyes with a grimace.

  
“What do you want Draco?”

  
“I just wanted to talk to you. I saw you crying at dinner over whatever Potter did.” A look of confusion crossed Pansy’s face. “He’ll pay for whatever he said to you, you have my word. I just want to know if I should punch him or full on hex him.” The girl stopped abruptly, causing Draco to backpedal slightly. Her eyebrows drew together, lips pulled tight to her teeth as she spoke.

  
“What do you mean what Potter said?”

  
“Pansy what do you think I mean? He obviously was a prat outside the Great Hall, that’s why you came in all puffy-eyed and unkempt.” Pansy gave him an exasperated look.

  
“Are you actually daft Malfoy?” The boy didn’t respond. “Potter,” she said with a sneer, “didn’t do anything. Well, he almost ran me over but he wasn’t the reason I was ‘unkempt’.”

  
“You’re not making any sense. Why else would you have been crying?” Pansy’s grip tightened on her wand, her eyes beginning to fill with a fiery rage. Draco put his hands up in a gesture of peace but it only made Pansy more irritated.

  
“You are making a bat-bogey hex sound very tempting Draco, so I would proceed with caution. Why do you think I’d be crying after finding out my two best friends are no better than the rest of the male population at this godforsaken school? What part of ‘it’s not funny’ can you not get through your pretentious skull? Huh?” The tip of Pansy’s wand edged closer to Draco and the flash of fear was quickly replaced with annoyance.

  
“You’re not still mad about that bet, are you? It was a joke Pansy! Just a way to make a few galleons off of knowing you better than Blaise!” Pansy’s eyes blazed.

  
“You foul, loathsome little cretin! Of course I’m still mad about that because you-” She jabbed her wand at Draco’s nose, “never actually apologized for something that quite obviously made me very upset!” The boy rolled his eyes, which he instantly regretted when Pansy shot a stinging jinx his way. He staggered back, one side of his face now red and irritated.

  
“What the fuck Pansy!” She looked almost pleased but still fumed with rage.

  
“Blaise at least had the capacity to realize that he crossed a line and apologized! You can’t even see past your failed attempt at humour! God Draco get over yourself and learn how to be a good bloody friend!” With that Pansy turned on her heel and practically ran back towards the castle, as Draco pointed a counter-jinx at his face.

  
Truly, he didn’t understand why Pansy was taking this so hard. To be pushed to tears over a joke was unlike her and it made Draco worry about her emotional state. He shook his head, deciding to leave her be until the morning. Maybe she just needed rest to see how preposterous she was reacting. There was, however, the unfortunate revelation that Potter had gotten a punch in over nothing and that quickly replaced his annoyance with embers of hatred. Straightening his robes, Draco began the walk back to the castle, certain that this would all blow over soon.

***

HARRY POV

The following days were tense with excitement and nerves as the Yule Ball loomed closer than ever. With only a week left, McGonagall led daily ballroom lessons while Harry and Ron panicked over their lack of dates. The pair had just endured their first lesson amidst relentless teasing from the Weasley twins.

  
“I don’t understand why it matters if I know the bloody waltz or fox trot. At this point, we’ll be lucky to have dates at all, let alone dance with them,” Ron muttered unhappily.

  
“Yeah well, I’ve got to figure something out before Saturday. I’d be the laughingstock of the school if I was the only champion to show up without a date.”

  
“Good news Potter, you’re already a laughingstock, especially with that horrid haircut.” Malfoy’s posh accent cut through the rumble of the crowd around them as he walked past, flanked by Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle.

  
“You’re one to talk Malfoy. You have enough gel in your hair to clog every drain in the school.” Zabini chuckled at that but fell silent with a look from the other slytherins. “Anyway it’s not as if you have a date either. Parkinson’s not around to be your picture perfect backup I’m afraid,” Harry shot back at the blonde.

  
“What would you know about Pansy and I? Not like you talk to slytherins in a civilized matter anyway.”

  
“Not like you give us the opportunity, weasel,” Ron glared at them, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. “C’mon, this isn’t worth the time or effort.” The pair continued on towards the gryffindor common room with Malfoy’s gang trailing behind them.

  
“I look forward to seeing your hand-me-down robes at the dance, Weasley. Hope your grandmother’s lace frock fits you nicely!” Harry had to stop Ron from starting an all out duel in the middle of a corridor.

  
“Another time Ron,” Harry mumbled. They made their way through the portrait of the fat lady and into the cozy common room. Hermione had already grabbed their usual spot by the fire; anyone brave enough to try and steal a chair would’ve had to move the mountains of books she brought with her.

  
“Hey Hermione,” Ron mumbled, flopping down on the unoccupied end of the couch.

  
“What’s got into you Ron? The end of the day usually makes you more chipper than this.” Harry began to rearrange books so he’d have a spot to sit while the redhead considered his response to Hermione.

  
“It’s Malfoy, the prat. He always knows how to get me angry and I wish he wasn’t so bloody good at it.” Hermione gave Harry a questioning look.

  
“He’s on about the Yule Ball, making fun of Ron’s robes before he’s even wore them,” Harry explained.

  
“I mean, he’s right unfortunately!” Ron exclaimed. “But it’s not like me or mum has the extra Galleons to get a pair of proper ones, especially on such short notice. Maybe that’s what making getting a date so complicated, no one wants to be seen with me in my nan’s old robes.” Harry almost chuckled at that image, but choked it back down at the slightly pained look on Ron’s face.  
“I’m sure it’s not that mate. You know how girls are about asking boys to dances, they expect us to do all the work. We just have to find some that are available and ask.” Ron somehow looked more glum but perked up suddenly and turned towards Hermione, nose deep in a transfiguration book.

  
“Hermione,” Ron began. “Are you going with someone?” She barely glanced up.

  
“Yes.” The boys shared slightly shocked looks before Harry spoke.

  
“Well? Who is it?”

  
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’m not going to bother.”

  
“Why wouldn’t we believe you?” Harry asked.

  
“Because I’m going with Viktor Krum.” She continued reading her book, as if she hadn’t just dropped a mind blowing statement. Once Ron picked his jaw up off the floor, he began to sputter.

  
“You? Going with Krum? You’ve got to be joking ‘mione!”

  
“Ron don’t be rude,” Harry interjected. “Why wouldn’t Krum want to go with Hermione? She’s smart, and capable, and fairly nice looking.”

  
“Thank you, Harry.” Ron continued to splutter, eyes passing between his friends with a mild look of betrayal.

  
“When’d he even ask you? Isn’t there usually an entourage of first-years following him around?

”  
“We ended up studying in the same section of the library. Actually that wasn’t the weirdest part of my day though,” she said as she closed her book. “I found Pansy Parkinson crying behind the restricted section!” Ron let out a barking laugh.

  
“That’s bollocks!” he said in shock. “What happened, did mummy dearest cut off her funds?” Hermione and Harry shared a mild frown.

  
“No actually, she’s been having a really rough time of it apparently. Bad enough she didn't instantly bite my head off when I found her.”

  
“Did she tell you what was wrong?” Harry asked, to the complete surprise of his best friend.

  
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about a slytherin Harry.” Ron interjected. With a roll of her eyes, Hermione went on.

  
“Apparently, her and Malfoy still haven’t made up from that spat they had last week. Zabini’s been nice enough but she’s been sitting alone at meals, and her mom’s going through another divorce. I think Pansy really liked the guy this time, so she’s taking it really hard.” Harry let the new information process for a moment as Ron shared his increasing exasperation.

  
“Hermione, you do remember this is a girl that has joined Malfoy in calling you a mudblood right?” His voice was incredulous but Hermione nodded solemnly.

  
“Trust me I don’t forget it lightly. But she was sobbing, and I’m not mean enough to just leave her there! Besides, we’re still kids and she keeps Malfoy as company. Who’s to say she’s not just scared and looking to protect herself?” Ron shook his head in disbelief.

  
“I can see where you might be coming from, but I still don’t like it,” Harry added. “Though it does surprise me how long she and Malfoy have been fighting.”

  
“Why does it matter anyway?” Ron said. “It’s not like that’ll effect us at all. Unless it magically gets us dates for the ball, I don’t care.” Harry let out an involuntary chuckle even as Hermione glared at the pair.

  
“Well in the mean time we’ve all got papers due for McGonagall and I’m sure you two haven't even started yet.”

  
“You’d have that right,” Harry groaned. Reluctantly the boys got out their books and quills in an attempt to get some form of homework done, even as the looming crisis of the ball drew closer.

***

DRACO POV

“And by the end of the week I expect you all to have perfected your proposals for the end of term of project. While I am aware the Yule Ball is this weekend, I maintain my high standards for your work. Do not disappoint me.” With that, Professor Snape waved towards the door, dismissing class. Draco began to gather his books and was on his way out of the room when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “A word, Draco?” Snape asked. Draco nodded and stepped out of the way of the other students. He was racking his brain in the silence, trying to think of what he’d done to warrant a word with the head of slytherin house. When nothing came to mind, he began to pick at the corner of his potions books.

  
“Stop fidgeting boy, there’s no need for alarm,” Snape said calmly.

  
“Sorry sir. What did you want to talk about?” The cover had begun to peel up on its own and Draco continue to scratch at it.

  
“Are you doing alright?” Draco’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Your lack of enthusiasm towards the assignment worries me. Usually, you’re far ahead of the curriculum and brimming with ideas for this sort of thing.” Snape’s faced was pinched with an unusual expression as Draco collected his thoughts.

  
“I’m alright sir. Just been distracted lately, I’m sorry for any drop in my usual performance.” With a nod of his head Draco began to head for the door, he didn’t want to be late to transfiguration again. Before he could get very far, Snape reached an arm out hesitating to physically restrain the boy.

  
“Are you sure? This isn’t like you Draco, and this close to holiday I worry about your father’s reaction should these distractions impair your schoolwork.” The boy stiffened at the mention of father.

  
“It’s silly teenage squabbles, sir. I’ll make sure to get you my project idea by Friday.” Determined to not be any later for his class, Draco moved for the door and this time Snape let him go. The halls were nearly empty which was a blessing. Any witnesses to Draco’s half run towards McGonagall’s room would’ve been quickly silenced. Of course, where the universe gives it also takes which meant the only seats left upon his arrival were those next to Pansy or Potter. His tardiness drew the eyes of the whole class as Pansy spread her books out that much farther to fill the desk she sat at.

  
“Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall began, “Do you have a reason for your tardiness?”

  
“Snape held me back Professor.”

  
“Hm. Five points from slytherin and please take your seat next to Potter. I expect no further disruptions.” Her raised eyebrow held enough threat that Malfoy swallowed his objections and places his books next to Potter’s. Of course, he couldn’t hold back a sneer in the boys direction which Potter returned. Professor McGonagall began her lecture again as Draco pulled out his parchments.

  
“Today we shall begin to understand the precise technique for the Vera Verto spell in hopes of you successfully transforming a common mouse into a goblet and back again.” Draco fell into the lull of taking detailed notes on the subject, the as the sound of scratching quills filled the room. While potions had many more practical applications, he could admit that transfiguration was an interesting subject. The class passed without much hassle even seated next to Potter. As the hourglass began to dwindle Draco made the poor decision of glancing over at Potter’s notes, more accurately Potter’s doodles. A baffled gasp escaped Draco’s lips making Potter’s eyes snap to his.

  
“Are you serious?” Draco whispered. “You haven’t taken a single note this entire class?” Potter shrugged in response, returning to the swirls filling in a...mandrake? Maybe a dragon? Draco wasn’t quite sure. “Of course the Boy Who Lived gets a pass in classes,” he mumbled.

  
“I don’t get a pass in classes! I just don’t see the point of notes when all the information is in our books,” Harry whispered back.

  
“Notes help you remember the information without the book Potter.” Potter scoffed at that, sounding mildly insulted.

  
“Not that it’s any of your business, Malfoy, but I do perfectly fine without notes. And Hermione helps me study if I ask nicely.”

  
Draco scoffed. “Of course you rely on her. You’d be a lost cause without it.”

  
“Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall’s voice rang sharply through the room and Draco sighed to himself before pasting on a look of innocence.

  
“Yes, Professor?”

  
“What did I say about no disruptions? Or would you like to share your conversation with the rest of us?

  
“Sorry Professor, it won’t happen again.”

  
“See that it doesn’t.” With a final glare at the side of Potter’s head, Draco returned to his notes and the last moments of the class passed without issue. As McGonagall said her final remarks and dismissed the students, Draco kept his eyes on the back of Pansy’s head. She was very quick to pack up her things, and the boy had to messily shove things in his bag to follow her out of the room.

  
“Pansy!” He called as he tried to catch up with her. He lengthened his stride and fell into step beside her. “Hey Pans,” he said hesitantly.

  
Keeping her eyes forward she bit out, “What do you want?”

  
“To talk. To have my friend back. I was hoping we could still go to the Yule Ball together actually and it’s less than a week away now.” Pansy continued to stare straight froward, her jaw tensing slightly. Her reply came out quietly,

  
“I’m afraid that’s not an option anymore Malfoy.” Malfoy? She never called him that, she knew how much he hated it. “I’ve already been asked by someone, and I said yes.” Shock tinged with betrayal coursed through Draco’s body.

  
“What? Who! Pansy, we agreed we’d go together as soon as the tournament was announced!”

  
“That was before you were a massive prat.” She stepped to one side of the corridor outside her next class, and Draco followed.

  
“Pansy I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would be so hurt by all of this.”

  
“That’s not actually an apology,” she bit out.

  
“Look can we please talk about this?” He lowered his voice, quickly remembering they were in a public space. “C’mon, skip class. We can go down to the lake and work things out.” Pansy shook her head.

  
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, I quite like divination.” With that, she headed up the stairs to the astronomy tower and Draco let out a small growl of frustration. As he headed to his next class Draco had the upsetting realization that he didn’t know how to fix this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Pansy make plans, Draco doesn't, and things start to fall apart as the Yule Ball draws closer and closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Within Draco's POV there is a depiction of a panic attack, please be aware if that may be triggering to you. This one took a little longer and isn't all that but I hope you enjoy!

**HARRY POV**

Ron sat down next to Harry at their small divination table with a huff, a defeated look distorting his features. 

“What’s got  _ you  _ down? Surely just being near Trelawney isn’t  _ that  _ horrible,” Harry said.

“No,” Ron whined. “I finally got enough courage to ask a girl to the ball and who do I decide to ask? Just bloody Fleur Delacour.” Harry’s mouth fell open. “And if that stupidity wasn’t bad enough, I did it in front of all of her  _ very _ beautiful friends. To no one’s surprise she said  _ no _ and now I can never show myself in front of any of them, ever again.” He dropped his head between his arms, cheeks red with shame. Harry put a hand on his shoulder and patted it awkwardly. 

“Ron I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Harry cringed his own lie. “At least you can say you tried.” Ron shook his head slowly and muttered from between his arms.

“No actually I think I’ll apply to go to Durmstrang. I’ll never have to face anyone here again and I’ll be far from Beauxbaton and my shame.” Harry laughed at the image of Ron in a Durmstrang uniform performing complicated staff dances.

“Hey at least you’d have Krum for company!” Ron’s certainly snide reply was cut off by the high chittering of Professor Trelawney as she swooped in from her office. Her getup was particularly garish today with layers of purple lace and beads off every edge. She clapped her hands twice. 

“Welcome back once more to the home of divination where you shall pursue the art of ascertaining the future, understanding omens, and becoming one with the universe’s energy.” A muted groan echoed throughout the class at the professors usual dramatics. “Today I have felt a calling from these energies that we must do what is unexpected of us in order to fully understand the breadth and complexity of life itself. So,” she raised her hands high above her head as if about to bestow invaluable knowledge. “I shall be putting you in pairs to convene and continue the journey that is crystal scrying.” An uproar broke out among the students as Ron and Harry shared a look of fear. 

“And here I thought today couldn’t get worse,” Ron muttered to Harry. Trelawney began listing off partners, each one phrased as if they were cosmic pairings. As the list grew longer, Ron and Harry felt optimistic until there were only a handful of people left without partners. And then the sentence came: Ron would be paired with Lavender Brown, and Harry with Pansy Parkinson. His face dropped completely when the words left Trelawney’s mouth. Divination was supposed to be a low effort class for the gryffindor but this would certainly prove a challenge for Harry. A scowl etched itself into his face as Ron left the table, Pansy Parkinson flopping down in his spot with a matching sneer on her face. 

“Now for today’s lesson we shall focus on paired scrying as a means to understanding the crossing strands that tie each of us together within the cosmic plan,” Trelawney began. She had started absentmindedly twisting her hair into knots and Harry was struck by her ever growing lack of sanity. “To accurately join your energies, you must grasp hands-” The class erupted in every single type of protest, the roar overwhelming the professors following words. Harry looked over at Parkinson to see her face in an odd mask of neutrality. Slytherins and their facades, it never failed to baffle him. Professor Trelawney began to speak over the various complaints and when the students failed to quiet down she decided the best course of action would be to smash the nearest vase, dead flowers and all. It shattered against the floorboards, glass flying everywhere and the class fell silent immediately. 

“As I was saying,” Trelawney stepped over the glass calmly. “You must grasp hands, and feel the energy flowing between your souls. Once you feel this connection strengthen you must gaze deep into your scrying ball, and BEHOLD,” Harry flinched. “Images of your intertwined future shall show themselves if your energies are truly bonded.” He rolled his eyes at the professor’s antics, making awkward eye contact with Parkinson. Trelawney clapped her hands again and set them to their assignments. With a sigh, Harry turned to face the slytherin on the other side of the table. Parkinson glared at him, but at least she had the decency to acknowledge his presence. Neither of them spoke, and Harry was sure this was as dreadful an experience for her as it was for him 

“As much as I would like to avoid ‘joining our energies’, I  _ really  _ don’t want to deal with Trelawney guiding us through it herself.” He placed his hands on the table palm up and forced a small smile onto his face. Parkinson stared at his hands like they were vipers waiting to bite and Harry tried his best to be patient. After several long, awkward beats, she flopped her hands on the table in the resignation.

“Lets just get this over with Potter.” They grasped hands loosely, both focusing on the crystal ball between them to avoid eye contact. Parkinson’s hands were unexpectedly soft; for some reason Harry had expected them to be rough and calloused, momentarily forgetting that she was a girl. 

“Do we just wait until we feel like we’ve  _ bonded _ or whatever?” Pansy asked. Harry shrugged, looking to the surrounding students to figure out if they were doing it right. With a heavy sigh he turned back to the slytherin. 

“Everyone else is making uncomfortably prolonged eye contact, so maybe we try that?” Parkinson sneered but complied, her brown eyes raising to meet Harry’s green. They stared for what felt like an hour but was actually only a few minutes before the girl broke, scoffing at the silliness of the situation. While Parkinson wasn’t always the nicest classmate, he could certainly understand her exasperation. 

“Divination is supposed to be useful, not staring awkwardly at random people,” Pansy muttered. Harry raised an eyebrow. 

“Do you actually believe in all this stuff about reading tea leaves, crystal balls, and being able to predict the future?” She snatched her hands away, crossing her arms and looking anywhere but Harry. “You’ve got to be joking. Ron and Hermione aren’t going to believe me when I tell them a slytherin  _ actually  _ believes in divination!” With that Pansy snapped forward, hand grabbing the knot of Harry’s tie and pulling their faces unreasonably close together.

“Tell anyone about this and you’ll be puking slugs for weeks,” she whispered. Usually this sort of thing would have Harry at least mildly terrified, but she didn’t seem to be reaching for her wand, which was a good sign. He considered her threat, and then had a possibly brilliant, more likely fatal idea. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Pansy’s grip loosened slightly. “On one condition.” Her reaction was expected, curious but wary of what the gryffindor could have in mind. “You and Draco have been fighting for weeks, and it doesn’t seem like the situation is going to get better anytime soon.”

“And?”

“The Yule Ball is this weekend.” She let go of his tie but kept up her look of curiosity.

“What are you getting at Potter?”

“I don’t have a date yet, and I heard  _ you  _ telling Malfoy that someone’s already asked you. But I know that a lie, because whoever it is would have been rubbing it in Malfoy’s face by now.” Harry could see the gears turning behind Parkinson’s eyes as she followed his train of thought. She glared slightly and responded in a whisper yell,

“Are you actually proposing  _ we _ go to the Yule Ball together?” Harry shrugged, his nonchalance hiding his fear. He  _ really  _ didn’t want to get hexed right now. 

“It’s not like we’d have to spend the whole night together. Champions perform the first dance, Malfoy sees you come in with me, we spend a few hours together, and then you say you’re tired to get out of it early. It’ll piss Malfoy off, and neither of us will have to go stag.”

“You’ve thought quite a lot about this, have you?”

“Just quick on my toes. Besides, the look on Malfoy’s face would be so worth it.” Pansy almost seemed to be considering it. When she looked back up at Harry, she seemed decided. 

“You would’ve made a damn good slytherin Potter.” Harry smiled. “Fine, we’ll go together but there will be rules in place, extensive rules and I get to hex you if you break any.” As Harry nodded, the constant chitter of Professor Trelawney grew closer. 

“Harry, Pansy, darlings,” Her voice almost hurt Harry’s ears. “You don’t seem to be converging your energies so you can gaze into your futures.” Expectantly, she gestured the two of them back together and they grasped hands. With a little hesitation, Harry looked up at Pansy. They stared and stared but eventually something actually began to happen. As Harry stared into the depths of the slytherins eyes what felt like a cool breeze wrapped itself around their conjoined hands, and they both shivered. The feeling spread up towards Harry’s shoulders, and the slight widening of Pansy’s eyes proved she felt it too.

“You seem to have a natural affinity for the art of divination young lady. It’s a shame Potter’s lack of belief has hindered your progress thus far.” That made Pansy smirk a little and Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, he wasn’t sure if breaking eye contact would ruin whatever was happening. The coolness began to curl around the back of his neck, and an edge of panic began to creep in. Trelawney was right, he didn’t believe there was any actual merit behind divination but this was proving him wrong, and he feared what the magic might do.

“Now your energies are fully bonded. Gaze into the crystal ball and you shall see your futures.” The professor’s voice had taken on a surprisingly soft tone compared to her usual dramatic keening. But Harry moved in unison with Pansy as their eyes drifted back down to the smoky orb between them. As the tendrils of blue-grey began to shift, Harry felt as if he could never look away, never  _ wanted  _ to look away. And then a scene began, bodies and walls forming from the smoke. 

He was standing at the top of a stair case, Pansy across from him. Her hair was pinned up delicately and she wore an elegant silver dress. Turning his head as if moving through treacle, he took in the crowds of people below him, the snowflakes hanging in the air, and the enraged face of a silver blonde slytherin. As soon as Harry processed that he was witnessing the Yule Ball, the scene changed in a swirl of grey. Books were spread out across a table in the library, Hermione to his side, and Pansy across from them. The three laughed at something as Harry felt his mouth move slowly to form around the sounds. 

As quickly as it appeared it was replaced with another glimpse. He was sat in the slytherin common room, tucked in a corner of one of the couches. Pansy was saying something to him, but the words sounded muffled. As he turned his head to listen harder, he noticed Draco sitting at the other end of the couch, book in hand with a small smile on his face. Harry had never seen the boy’s face look so relaxed. Confusion dawned on him, and then the sounds of the divination classroom siphoned back in, blue grey smoke fading away to filtered sunlight.

He looked up, meeting the similarly shocked eyes of Pansy. They both gaped for a moment before dropping their still grasped hands. Harry rubbed his palms on his trousers, needing to ground himself, and make sure he wasn’t stuck in another vision. 

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Trelawney’s high pitched words brought him fully back to his body. He forced a smile on his face and nodded. Satisfied with their experience, the professor turned to other struggling students, leaving the pair to process everything they had just seen. 

“Did we-” Harry paused to swallow, struggling to find the words. “What did you see? Did we see the same things? I’ve never had anything like that happen before, I thought Trelawney was just off her rocker!” His mouth agape, he continued thinking through the experience, the cool feeling that had preferenced the visions, the scenes themselves and what they meant. Pansy looked just as dumbfounded as he felt, which was slightly reassuring. The girl swallowed hard.

“I saw us at the Yule Ball, and in the library with your muggleborn friend, and then we were with Draco in the common room. Is that what you saw?” Harry nodded, unsure how he felt about these revelations. 

“I don’t know how I’d ever end up alongside Malfoy but I’m sure these are just possibilities not definite futures. RIght?” Harry said.

“Yes, as decisions change so does the future. You could put on your shoes differently tomorrow and these things could never happen. It’s a very flimsy understanding because so few wizards believe in divination.” Harry looked up to see Pansy’s eyes bright with excitement. “I’ve never had a scrying session quite like that though. I wonder what changes made the experience so potent.” Pansy dissolved into quiet mutters and began to write furiously in a small notebook. It was oddly humanizing to see her so curious and clearly excited over the whole exchange. 

After a few moments, Trelawney called the class back together with some airy words of wisdom about the flexibility of fate and our ‘tenuous grasps on the universe’. With that she clapped her hands again, dismissing the class. 

“I guess we can talk before dinner about the rules for this weekend?” Harry asked. Pansy was still writing furiously in her notebook but paused to respond to him. 

“Yes, but not in the Great Hall. We’ll meet in the corridor so to not draw too much attention.” Harry nodded in agreement and crossed the classroom towards Ron who greeted him with a smile. 

“Mate you will  _ not  _ believe the class I just had,” Harry began as the pair took the stairs out of the astronomy tower.

***

**DRACO POV**

Two days. That’s all that was left before the Yule Ball.  _ Two days.  _ Pansy had continued her streak of ignoring Draco at all costs, even going so far as to avoid the common room until late at night. She loved looking out into the Black Lake, and it worried him that they still hadn’t made up. He had  _ tried  _ a couple days earlier, but she just wouldn’t accept his apology! Draco was sure Blaise was getting tired of his constant moping but he couldn’t help it. Pansy wouldn’t talk to him, he hadn’t successfully asked anyone else to the ball, he had no clue what he was going to do for his potions project, and he had just received a letter from his parents asking after his Yule Ball plans. A book hit the crown of Draco’s head with a whap, breaking him from his internal spiral. He spun towards Blaise, enraged, as he reached up a hand to reposition his hair.

“Ow!” he said, indignant at an assault so early in the morning. 

“Sorry mate, you were beginning to drown in your own suffering. Your eyes went all sad and empty,” Blaise replied. 

“Next time maybe just, tap my shoulder or something.”

Blaise shrugged, “I mean it worked didn’t it?” Malfoy gave a half nod, realizing that he had tuned out the general roar of the Great Hall at breakfast. He had never been a morning person and couldn’t understand how so many students could be this energetic before midday. Straightening his posture, Draco smoothed his hair back once more, not wanting a strand out of of place. As he looked up, he locked eyes with Potter, an uncharacteristically smug expression on the gryffindor’s face. That instantly set alarm bells ringing in his head. Why would Potter have any reason to look so pleased with himself? Surely he was just thinking about something else, zoned out in Draco’s general direction. The slytherin’s scowl deepened, and Potters smirk grew in equal response. 

“Do you know if Potter’s been up to anything lately?” he asked Blaise, not breaking eye contact across the hall. 

“Not that I know of, but I wouldn’t be the one to ask. I’m surprised you don’t know with how you keep tabs on him. Some people might even say you’re obsessed.” Malfoy gasped slightly, turning from his staring contest to glare at Blaise for the second time that morning. 

“I am  _ not  _ obsessed! It’s not  _ my  _ fault that bloody gryffindor always has to be up to something. If I don’t keep my wits about me, who knows what he might get away with!” Draco replied. The other boy hummed in disbelief.

“It’s not like Potter isn’t equally obsessed with you. Can be a bit much at times, you’ve got to admit Draco.” 

“If I don’t keep an eye on him, who will?” Draco bit back. 

“No one. Because he’s rarely up to anything. Except for the occasional heroic deeds, what with the chamber and all.” Malfoy harumphed instead of responding. He was  _ not  _ obsessed with Potter by any means. They had their occasional fights, and a class rivalry once in a blue moon but that wasn’t obsession. Potter was just naturally aggravating with his gryffindor bravado and the way he walked into rooms like he owned them. It’s not like Draco could just  _ ignore _ the messes that boy caused, especially when he did it all with that stupid smile on his face. What was with gryffindors and always looking impeccable after they’d done something  _ brave _ . He couldn’t stand the weird, fuzzy feeling it gave him. 

Draco finished off the last crumbs of the apple tart on his plate, downing the last dregs of his tea as he stood. He nudge Blaise’s shoulder. 

“Ready to head to Ancient Runes? I was gonna head up now and look over my homework again.” The other slytherin shook his head.

“I wanna get some more of this reading done for Flitwick first, I’ll catch up in a few.” Draco waved a silent goodbye and heading out into the corridor. His mind began thinking over the runes assignment as he walked, making sure he hadn’t forgotten to do any parts. Runes was surprisingly one of his favorite subjects, second only to potions. Thoughts tumbling away, he almost didn’t notice Pansy’s voice from around the corridor. When Draco realized who it was he slowed, but only slightly, curiosity losing to his need to get to class early.

“-and only when absolutely necessary.” He heard Pansy say. Turning the corner he was shocked to see Pansy standing next to Potter, without her usual look of disdain pointed towards the gryffindor. 

“Pansy? What are _ you _ doing with Potter?” Draco snarked. The pairs heads snapped up, Pansy looking irritated while Potter had that same cocky smirk on his face from earlier. 

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business Draco.” Pansy turned her nose up at him. “Besides, I’d better be getting to class anyways.” She threw a hand over her shoulder at Potter and strode off down the corridor. This left Draco and Potter staring awkwardly at each other, but the slytherin wasn’t leaving until he had some sort of explanation.

“Well?” he practically snapped, resisting the urge to tap his foot impatiently. His father would’ve had a fit at any sign of impatience in a Malfoy. Potter cleared his throat, expression falling just slightly.

“We were just um,” his face scrunched up. “Going over a divination assignment.” Draco narrowed his eyes at the obvious lie. 

“Mhmm. You know, you really are quite bad at lying Potter.” Panic began to seep into the gryffindors expression. Draco had been right, he  _ was  _ up to something. “Usually I wouldn’t care what you were doing,”  _ Liar  _ a voice like Blaise’s whispered in his head. “But if you hurt Pansy, in  _ any  _ way, I will not hesitate and you’ll spend a good week or two with Madame Pomphrey.” Potter’s face betrayed fear for a quick moment, and Draco smirked slightly. A transparent mask of confidence smoothed his features as Potter responded. 

“I’d like to see you try Malfoy.” He stepped closer, invading Draco’s personal space. “I believe you about Pansy, but I doubt I’d be the one the end up in the hospital wing.” Draco’s hand twitched, desperately wanting to reach for his wand and settle this now. He could feel the tension between the two of them, the want to fight things out like usual. Realizing how late it was getting, Draco let out a huff that ruffled the curls framing Potter’s face, and fogged the edges of his glasses. The two were close enough that their noses were practically touching. The added sound of approaching footsteps made Draco retreat slightly, putting a respectable distance between them. 

“Coward.” Potter hissed. It was taking everything in Draco not to hex the boy right there. 

“Maybe some other time Potter,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “Some of us like to get to class on time.” With that, Draco turned on his heel continuing towards his lecture hall. He could practically feel green eyes following him down the length of the corridor, the pressure lifting when he turned another corner. So much for revising homework, he thought.

The diversion with Potter made him arrive to the steep Ancient Runes classroom only moments before Blaise. Draco had only just set his bag down when Blaise began to climb towards their usual spot. The other boy gave a confused look at Draco’s lack of revising but said nothing, replacing it with a small grin. 

“You know who I saw on the way here?” Blaise was practically bouncing, the excitement tangible. Mildly curious Draco replied,

“Who’d you see? And why are you so happy about it?”

“Viola Gideon, you know the third year? Friends with that Harper girl?”

“Oh you mean the Viola that’s been eying you since term started? That I keep telling you to ask out?” Draco said sarcastically.

Balise rolled his eyes slightly. “Yes that Viola. I finally took her advice and I’m taking her to the ball!” A pit formed in Draco’s stomach but he forced a smile onto his face. 

“That’s brilliant Blaise! You’ll have a grand time together, I’m sure.” As the new information sunk in further, the sense of dread grew. Draco would have to attend the ball alone, without even his best friend by his side. Unless, of course, a miracle happened and he managed ot find a suitable match in the next two days. Near impossible with the extra Durmstrang muscle everywhere. And Mother was expecting an owl about his plans for the ball. Draco would have to act fast in figuring something out. Blaise snapped his fingers in front of Draco’s face. 

“Hey you still in there mate? Looks like I lost you for second.”

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught up about the runes homework,” Draco lied. Blaise didn’t look convinced but Draco was saved by the monotone voice of Professor Babbling. The two boys got out their supplies and settled in for the lecture. 

The next hour and a half passed by uneventfully and while Draco was intrigued by the topics Babbling had brought up he had to nudge Blaise several times to keep him awake, or at the very least, not snoring. Draco followed the still half asleep boy down the stairs of the classroom and out into the bustling corridor. With a half hearted wave, Blaise went left as Draco went right. As soon as the other boy left Draco’s side, dread settled like a rock in his stomach once more. Blaise had found a date, which was wonderful because he deserved to have a good time. BUt Draco, he would be attending an international event alone. 

Just the thought of walking down the stairs, all eyes on him, without a girl on his arm? His heart began to race, and Draco could feel his face turning pink. His feet moved on instinct as he felt the pressure welling behind his eyes, his breath moving in time with his steps. The door to the lavatory drew near as Draco’s vision tunneled; if he could just get through that door and to a stall, throw up a muffliato and he could crumble. He blinked as the sound of the stall door closing behind him broke him from his thoughts. Sloppily he cast the spell and let his tears fall. 

Dread was a tricky thing, heavy and cold but sharp as daggers. But the weight won, numbness descending like a veil as Draco’s tears hit the floor silently. He set his books down safely away from the germs of the toilet and crumpled to the floor. His ankles were pinned awkwardly underneath his legs but all he could think of was the ball. How was he going to explain to his parents? He shouldn’t tell his parents but certainly they’d find out if he  _ lied _ . There would be press and photos and it would make the daily prophet and a Malfoy couldn’t be seen alone, unwanted. 

A new set of sobs racked through his body, Draco’s shoulders stuttering. He felt pathetic, and clenched his fists so hard his nails drew blood. He was a Malfoy for christ’s sake, he should pull himself together. Things would only worsen if he showed up to class late  _ and  _ puffy eyed. Almost in retaliation the dread pressed harder, emboldened by another wave of panic. As tears consumed Draco once more, he decided class was pointless when his body refused to calm down. All he had to do was find someone to take to the ball with him, or find a way to lie to his parents without risking exposure. It was simple really if his mind would just cooperate for a moment. Instead the fear broke through his meager attempt at a wall, the shame he would bring to his family an all consuming fact. Mother’s friends would surely hear about it and then Draco’s disappointment would be the talk at any important event for months. Father would be incredibly displeased, and Draco had no doubt he’d face his cane until Father deemed the lesson learned. That more than anything made Draco’s fists clench harder, gouging into his palms. 

Deep breaths, he just needed to take deep breaths. He was in the lavatory. He was safe. He just had to calm down and then he could fix this. Breathe in, breathe out. He can fix this. Focusing on the feeling of his lungs expanding and deflating, the tears began to slow, shoulders relaxing just slightly. After several minutes of contested breathing, Draco let the wall down and panic flowed in but a small stream rather than a wave. He could handle a stream. Achingly, he flexed his fingers, hissing at the wounds his nails left behind. With a muttered episkey the cuts began to knit back together. 

Draco took a moment to wipe his face and stood, straightening his robes as best he could. After retrieving his textbooks and listening to make sure he was alone, Draco undid the latch on the stall door and walked slowly towards the mirrors. His hair was surprisingly still in good shape with only a few strands loose on one side. Methodically he smoothed them back and starting running cold water on the tap. He still hadn’t discovered an effective spell to do away with red eyes and puffiness without placing an entire glamour on himself. That was entirely too much work when cold water and time was just as effective. Once he had collected himself enough to be seen in the corridor, Draco headed to the library. Missing one class wouldn’t kill him, especially when he had a crisis to solve. 

The librarian gave him a small smile as he headed to a tucked away table by a window with his favorite view in the school. It looked just past the astronomy tower across the great lake, sunlight pouring over the water’s surface. He heaved a sigh, the beauty of it all giving him another layer of calm. He set his books down and began his planning. First, the catalog of school year photos from slytherin house. If he could find acceptable matches that weren’t know nuisances, all he had to do was ask and hope one of them was available. The hour passed quickly as Draco made a list of possible candidates, and as a backup drafted a letter to his mother detailing a fictional girl named Selena who’d be accompanying him to the ball. She was pureblood of course, came from a small but well to do family, and was averagely pretty. If all else failed, Draco could only hope to stay away from photographers and hope his lie wasn’t transparent. 

Feeling satisfied with his research the slytherin packed his things, restocked the catalogs, and headed back out into the corridor. Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass were the only contenders and he had his next class with the both of them. If he could catch Blaise for a moment beforehand he’d discover if they already had dates, and if not, summon his courage and hope. With majority of the weight lifted from his shoulders, he almost floated through the halls. He felt a little ridiculous but was trying to allow himself this window of optimism. Either way, he was determined to not let the issue ruin his week further. He could always deal with the consequences afterwards. 

  
  



End file.
